Galves Town
by Manizu
Summary: Germany is stressed, and so Japan decides everyone needs a little vacation. Meanwhile, the Allies have exactly the same idea...


It was then that I decided we needed a vacation.

Ah! I must apologize, for I haven't explained when "then" was. "Then" was not, in fact, a single event. "Then" was a compilation of events leading up to a perfect storm.

"Then" was the time Italy tried to make lunch for Germany, and in the aftermath there was no longer a kitchen to be found.

"Then" was when Italy was captured in the middle of a campaign, forcing Germany to retreat.

"Then" was the day Italy tried to apologize by cleaning Germany's house, and left unspeakable horrors behind.

And finally…"Then" was the day Germany had had enough.

If you were there, you would know that it started like any other day. Germany woke up to find the brunet asleep next to him, completely naked. As usual, he hit him over the head with the nearest object (today it was a rather sturdy alarm clock) before barking something about 'extra laps during training today.' Without change, Italy found some way to slip away during training, leaving Germany to chase after him.

Germany is usually a forbearing person. On any other day, something like this wouldn't have sent him over the edge.

However…

That evening, after Germany had finally caught Italy and forced him to finish training, after he had dragged him home half-asleep, after he had unceremoniously dumped him on the couch, still fully dressed and clothes wrinkling, he began to make dinner.

He sighed, adding a dash of pepper to the boiling pot in front of him.

 _It's like this every day…_

 _A monotony of cleaning up after him._

Meanwhile, said burden was just waking up.

"Ve…" He looked around, trying to make sense of his current location.

 _Oh, it's Germany's house!_

With that completed, he folded his arms behind his head, leaning back against a surprisingly soft green pillow. His eyes fell upon a book on the coffee table.

 _The Complete Works of Franz Kafka_

With nothing else to do, he flipped it open to a random page—well, not exactly random, as a bookmark made it almost certain that it would open exactly to page 198.

 _Metamorphosis:_

 _Als Gregor Samsa eines Morgens aus unruhigen Traumen erwachte fand er sich in seinem Bett zu einem ungeheuren Ungeziefer verwandelt._

He turned the page, entranced by the macabre tale.

...

With tears streaming from his eyes, Italy raced into the kitchen.

"Germaaaaaany! It's so screwed up! There's this guy and he turns into a bug and his family hates him—"

Germany's eyes grew wide as the Italian continued to chatter. The ladle he was holding slipped out of his hand.

"—AND HE DIES IN THE END!"

 _Clatter._

There was nothing but the sound of the pot bubbling and Italy's sobs growing slowly quieter.

Germany put his hand over his face. He drew in a deep breath:

"….He dies in the end?"

"Yes! And then his family—"

"…I hadn't finished it yet. …Now there's no reason for me to read it."

"…?"

He sighed, and left the room. A few seconds later, a door could be heard closing from across the house.

…

About an hour later, I got a call from Italy:

"Japan! Japan! It's Germany! There was a giant bug, and he dropped the ladle, and-"

I put down my mug of green tea. Clearly, this was going to take a while.

"Slow down. What happened?"

"—"

He proceeded to tell me everything that had happened.

"…I see. You're reading Romeo and Juliet, right?"

"Yeah! It's really good!"

"Then how would you feel if I told you that Juliet dies at the end?"

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"N…NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I dropped the receiver and covered my ears as loud cries poured out of it.

"Do you understand? That's how Germany-san must have felt."

"Waaaaah…" He sniffled. "And now he won't come out of his room…"

 _There must be something more to this,_ I thought. _It's just not like him to shut down after something this trivial…_

"I'll come over and talk to him."

* * *

The house was dark when I got there. Italy was nowhere to be seen.

The living room was illuminated only by the street light outside. I squinted, trying to reconstruct Germany's living room from memory.

I stepped forward…and tripped over a large hardcover book.

"Ah! …Why would he leave something like that in the middle of the floor?" I got up, and slowly made my way to the hallway.

I kept walking, running my hand along the wall as a guide, until I saw a light streaming out from underneath a door.

 _That must be his room._

I slowly brought my hand up to door and knocked.

No reply.

This was clearly a situation where I would have to suspend formalities.

I hated that.

I turned the doorknob, recoiling at the bright light.

"Let off some steam, Bennett."

Germany sat in an armchair in the corner of his room, a small black-and-white TV flickering in front of him. To his right lay several empty bottles of beer; to his left, an empty box of tissues. Said tissues nearly filled the wastebasket to the right of the TV.

I cleared my throat.

"…Commando, huh?"

Germany turned around, tears streaming from his face.

"S-shut up. It's my feel-good movie," he slurred, clearly drunk.

I decided to refrain from telling him my opinion. Instead, I took a seat on his bed.

"So…Italy tells me you two had a fight."

"…"

"Would you like to tell me what happened?"

He filled me in on his interpretation of events, including the events of the morning and afternoon that Italy hadn't told me about.

"Ever since I captured him, it's been like this. An endless cycle of fixing whatever he screws up. I never move forward."

And finally, I understood.

"You're stressed."

"…What?"

"You're stressed. You're sick of Italy, and you almost wish you had never met him. Am I correct?"

"…" He blushed, clearly not wanting to be told this.

"Lately…" I paused. "I've been thinking we should take a vacation."

* * *

It was in that moment that a single statement sparked something far bigger than I could ever hope to contain. A journey against all odds, to the most unlikely of destinations…

Little did I know that someone else, in fact, had had the same idea.

* * *

France breezed through the door of the Allies' meeting room airily, quite late.

"Dude! Where have you been? The meeting started half an hour ago!" America dropped the chalk he had been writing with. "The Hero's minions are _never_ late!"

"There he goes again," England muttered. "It's not like he reminds us thirty times a meeting or anything…"

France winked, his hair seeming to flow in an invisible wind.

"Wait until you see _why_ I'm late, _Amérique_!" With a flourish, he produced a piece of paper from beneath his capelet.

"I've won an all-expenses-paid trip for six to Galves Town!"

The room was silent. One could almost hear crickets chirping.

"…Galves town, aru?"

"It's got to be a sc—"

"ALL RIGHT, VACATION!" America threw his arms up in the air, forgetting about the soda he was holding in his left hand. It slipped, spilling across the floor.

"No! Not my uniform…" A barely audible voice seemed to say.

"Aren't you two forgetting something?" England interjected. "We're in the middle of a war. We can't just go on vacation!"

"He's right, aru. And just where is this 'Galves Town?'"

"The flyer says it's in Texas."

"Even better!" America stood up, assuming a hero-esque pose. "It's about time I polished my glasses, anyway!"

"So, then, we're going?" Excitement was apparent in the Frenchman's voice.

England sighed. "Let's take a vote. After all, we still haven't heard Russia's opinion yet." Although the man could be unpredictable, England had to admit that he was probably his last hope at sanity. "All against?"

He and China raised their hands.

"…All against?"

"You already said—"

"ALL AGAINST, AHEM AHEM AHEM?" He cleared his throat, hoping Russia would take his cue. In response, the blond only smiled at him.

He gave in.

"That's two…"

"So we're going?"

"Of course not! We haven't finished taking the vote yet!" England had to admit that he was grasping at straws.

"…All in favor?" His voice trembled.

America, France, and Russia raised their hands.

"So that's it, then."

Much noisy cheering from America ensued.

"B-but wait!" He had one last shot. "It says it's for six people! We need another person!"

France frowned, and looked at the flyer again.

"Six…oh, there's an asterisk! …or _less_ people."

England collapsed against the table, promptly giving up any hope of reason in the near future. Poor git, he should have known it was a crack fic.

* * *

Omake 1:

"Ever since I captured him, it's been like this. An endless cycle of fixing whatever he screws up. I never move forward. ROY, WE'RE STAGNATING!" He waved one of the empty beer bottles dramatically.

"You really need to stop watching sitcoms when you're drunk."

* * *

Omake 2:

"You're stressed."

"…What?"

"You're stressed. That's why you're acting OOC. Also, the author just likes writing about you doing ridiculous things."

"You seem to know this author quite well…"

I discreetly pushed the notebook further under my leg.

"She gets around a lot."

* * *

Notes:

It was hard to come up with something that would send Germany over the edge. So I consulted the Hetalia wiki:

"So…he's efficient…maybe Italy disrupts this efficiency somehow?"

"He also likes baking sweets…maybe Italy finds out?"

"…Ah! He likes reading! Perfect!"

Spoilers…it seems like you can't go anywhere without encountering them…*cough Attack on Titan fandom cough*

Yes. Germany has all of Franz Kafka's works. In one volume. It's very heavy, and the binding isn't holding up very well, despite the fact that he only bought it last week. It is a beautiful green hardcover edition, with silvery embossing on the cover and a red ribbon bookmark attached to the spine. The edges of the paper are cut jaggedly, and made to look slightly yellowed, as if it is an older book…however, the publisher could not accurately recreate the smell, a small detail which drove him insane until the day he died…

Ahem. Sorry. (But really, Germany, how do you NOT KNOW how a paramount work of literature from your own country ends? *Shakes head*)

As to where Italy went when Japan entered…He went to bed. Probably cried himself to sleep. (Actually, I just needed him out of the scene…)

I'd like to apologize for Germany's wangst. It probably won't appear again in this fic.

Originally, the Axis and Allies prologues were supposed to be separate chapters. But then the Allies' side ended up being really short…I actually don't have a lot of commentary for their side. But China and England are probably going to be my Only Sane Men for the Allies throughout the fic.


End file.
